Trust Fall
by aecwriterluv
Summary: Her heart dropped into her stomach. They were trapped. Fear burned inside of her like fire, and her face flushed with panic. This was her fault. She couldn't let him get hurt because of her impulsive act. Terror and pain ripped through his body. He had to get them out of there. He had to protect her. He couldn't let her die. She was all he had.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Full summary: Amy will stop at nothing to save the wild horses from death. But desperation is not the mother of reason. An impulsive dare finds her and Ty trapped, alone, and in danger. They must rely on and trust each other to survive this.**

**Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Heartland. And this is supposed to be set in season one.**

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><p>Ty stretched from his sleep and forced himself up from his bed. He drew a deep breath of the cool morning air that his loft did little to keep out, and walked to the window. He threw it open to allow the soft sunlight to spill into the room, warming his bare chest and face. As he blinked away the light, his eyes found what he expected to see. He could see only the back of her, her blonde hair whipping in the breeze behind her moving body. The black horse she rode carrying her quickly away. Amy was riding Spartan again, as she had done most every morning, as Ty had grown used to seeing her do. He knew she wasn't riding because she loved it, even though she did. He knew she was running from the pain, the haunting pain of her mother's death, the pain of not being able to stop it, hiding from the guilt and doubts, galloping away from the things she couldn't change. This was her escape. He knew because he knew the pain so well. He had tried to hide from so many things in his life. So many things he'd wished he could change but couldn't. Running never made the pain go away, but it numbed it for awhile. Made it just bearable enough to live through. It never lasted long enough, but he was glad she could find it at all.<p>

He hated to see her suffer, the way he had suffered. Death hadn't taken his parents from him, but there were times Ty wished it had. It might have been easier than them just leaving him, abandoning him, betraying him. In a way it was worse than death. It left Ty with an anger he couldn't escape, that he couldn't forget or forgive. An anger he knew he could never hold on to if his parents were dead. His pain came from a different kind of loss. His was the loss of abandonment. Hers was the loss of forever. Her mom was dead. But yet their losses where the same, in that they both were reminded every day by pain.

That was the part of Amy Ty understood. The part of her that was hurting. He understood her in a way no one else in her life could. The rest of her he could only admire. He didn't understand the gentleness in her voice when she spoke to the crazy horses she worked with, or the way she risked herself to help them. He didn't understand her love for the every horse that had caused her mother's death. But that's what made her different, that's what made her special. That's what drew him to her.

Ty knew Amy meant something to him. He just didn't know what. He couldn't unravel the mystery that bound his strange feelings to her. He didn't know what it meant when they locked eyes like they so often did, silent words spoken between them that he didn't understand. So many times he'd wanted to tell her that. To tell her how much she met to him. He had let so many chances to tell the people he cared about slip by. And then he'd had to watch them walk away, walk out of his life. And every time he couldn't fight the echoing thoughts that maybe it was his fault. Maybe if he would have told them. Fear had always stopping him before, fear always lead to the regrets. But this time it was different. He had chosen not to let fear rule his life anymore. This time he wasn't afraid. He wanted to tell her. He had even taken the footsteps towards her, his heart racing as words trailed to his lips ready to be spoken. But it was always his past that stopped him. Always his mistakes that drew him away. Always his scars that pulled him back. Amy was better than the mistakes he'd made. She was better than him. She deserved more that he could ever give her, more than he could ever be. He didn't, couldn't, deserve her.

She smiled at the familiar feeling of Spartan's body galloping under hers. It was always thrilling despite how often she did it. The cold air prickling her skin as it rushed into her face. The steady, constant, and strong rhyme of his gait. It was freeing. The sun was rising, shinning brightly in her eyes. She loved the quiet peacefulness of the morning, the only time she had to herself. It was her mom's favorite time of day too. Amy felt the pain forming in her chest. Her mom wasn't there anymore. No matter how many times she remember this, the pain was still fresh and new. And it hurt. Loneliness and loss drug her down, drowning her in grief. It pressed in on her until it feels like she would collapse into nothing. But the guilt was worse. It felt like a knife, slowly pressing into her skin. Every second worse then the one before, more blood, and more pain. It would never go away. Her mom wasn't there anymore, and it was her fault. It was always in the back of her mind, always too close to her memory. The loss and guilt where overwhelming. Sometime she felt like she was being swallowed by it and it would consume her. Sometimes it felt like it would just kill her. But on mornings like this, when she rode Spartan it was easier. It didn't go away completely, but it would fade enough to bare. She could escape through Spartan and the fields and the air and the knowledge that she was doing what she wanted to do with her life. Saving horses from abuse and disease, and most often the fear that controlled them. Somehow fixing them, healing the brokenness in them, healed her too. Putting their shattered pieces back together was just another one of hers she set into place. And most importantly she knew she was doing what her mom would have wanted her to do. That was the driving force that pushed her through the days when she was the most broken, when she was the closest to falling apart. Her mom always told her to never give up on a horse. Amy knew the best way to honor her mom's memory was to never forget that.

Her attention was pulled from her thoughts when she heard voices ahead of her. They where quiet and distant, but they shouldn't have been there at all. It was early, and the shouts cut through the morning like a blade, foreign and out of place. Something was wrong. Amy quickly picked her way through the woods that separated her from the noise, and as she grew closer the voices blended with the sound of motors and horses. The trees finally thinned and she could see past the leaves into a bright sunlit valley. Amy felt surprise creep up through her at the scene spread before her. Large metal railed panels, the kind they used for their round pen, where placed to form a corral wider at one end then the other, like a funnel towards the center of the field. The smaller end led to a cattle trailer that was pitching and swaying, only meaning that is already had animals inside it. The sound of motors vibrated in her ears and her eyes search to find the source. Three men on 4-wheelers where driving horse, spirited and unmanageable through the paneled walls into the trailer.

Amy felt the air collapse inside of her. They were mustangs. They were rounding up a herd of mustangs. A shout of protest build in her mouth but sudden fear shoved it down. These men were obvious immoral and cruel. She didn't know what they were going to do to the horses, but it didn't matter. What she was watching was wrong. And she knew trying to stop them could get her hurt. Still, part of her felt a need to. How could she sit there half hiding behind branches and watch horses be wronged? How could anyone?

A loud clanging drew her eyes away from the men circling the herd to a horse halfway through the corral. A large dark bay was spooked and thrashing against the rails trying to get free. In a lot of ways it looked like Spartan and Amy instant felt desperate pity for it. It was rearing and being pushed back again and again by the other horses being herded into the trailer. In a frantic attempt to escape, it reared and jumped at the rail. But with no room to run it never had a chance of making it. It collided into the metal, it's legs buckling beneath it, and fell to the ground. In an instant Amy was off of Spartan and stumbling towards the injured horse. It couldn't get back up. It was getting trampled. She felt her eyes burning and tears blurred her vision. Instinct to help it and adrenaline pushed her forward even when reason told her to stop. Only when she saw all three men hurry towards it did her feet stop moving. She couldn't go down there. But it was hurt. As the men drew nearer it struggled to stand, to flee from them. It couldn't. Every time is fell back exhausted and in pain. A tear spilled from the rim of Amy's eye and then down her cheek.

"It's bad, too bad," she heard one of the men yell to another. "Then take care of it quickly and let's get out of here," a different voice yelled. One moment the horse was struggling on the ground and then the next a deafening shot split the air and the horse was completely still. The sound echoed in Amy's ears and her heart dropped into her stomach. They killed it. A sob of grief, rage, and terror jerked her body. They killed it, just like that. Not a second thought. No value for its precious life. Suddenly Amy knew she had to leave. These men were killers. They were dangerous. She had to get someone to help. The others couldn't die too. She couldn't let them.

She ran back towards Spartan, blinking the tears and shock away. She looked up from her feet and choked on a gasp. A man, middle aged, tall, and with a look of shock and horror covering his face stood in from of her. Before she could think to run he grabbed for her, snatching her arm, trapping her. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her face burned with panic.

"What are you doing?" the man yelled at her, his voice dripping with anger. His eyes were cold and furious.

"I," Amy stammered unable to form the words on her tongue.

"Are you alone?" the man said, searching around him for another intruder. She nodded her head in response, still unable to speak. Her hands shook. Terror raced through her body like ice, freezing her. It writhed inside of her like fire burning away her senses. All she could do was stand. But she had to get away. His fingers pressed into the skin of her arm. They could kill her, just like they killed the horse. She had to get away.

"Where were you going?" he asked, staring at her face. Amy swallowed and sucked in a breath.

"Home," she force through her teeth. It sounded innocent, it made her sound young, non threatening. The man's eyes darted from her to his three companions, like he though maybe somehow she hadn't seen them and what they were doing. Maybe she was too naive to know. Amy glanced back too. The trailer was closed and the men were loading up the rails. She could see the dark body of the horse lying in the grass. Lifeless, dead. A shiver split through her, almost forcing her knees to collapse. She had to get away.

She felt the man's grip on her arm loosen as he tried to decide what to do with her, and she felt adrenaline rush over her. She had to run. And she did. She ripped her arm out of the man's fingers and bolted towards Spartan as fast as her body allowed. She didn't let a second be wasted by looking back. Fear for her life was stronger than curiosity. She had no way of know if the man would have let her go. He could have. Or he might have drug her down to the truck and taken her. He could have killed her. Terror unmatched by any she'd felt before drove her to her horse, and only when she was mounted on his back did she glance back. The man might have let her go, and he might not have, but either way, now he didn't follow her. He didn't chase her down. Relief collapse over her. She was free. There was space enough between her and him to flee. And she did. She dug her heels into Spartan's ribs and let him go. "Just mind your own business girl!" she heard a shout behind her, a warning, the voice cold and direct. The same kind of voice that would shoot an injured horse. Her heart beat in every inch of her body, pounding like Spartan's legs racing her towards safety. It pumped the adrenaline out of her until only fear and pain and relief where left, laced together and spilling out of her through tears. She needed to reach home before it was too late to save the other horses, before they were killed too

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><p><strong>Please review! I would love your honest opinion. Sorry for any grammar mistakes, I'm terrible at proof reading. The next chapter should be up soon. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for chapter two!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

They killed him. The shot still rang in her ears, sudden and final. Like it was voicing his last breath, his last thought, his last heartbeat, his last everything. Amy knew death was inescapable. She wasn't naïve enough to believe she could avoid it forever. Her life was shadowed by her own mother's death everyday. But the pain of scentless murder was deep and intense. She could have saved him. She knew it. The minutes she rode were timeless. A few seconds or hours it felt the same. Something as unimportant as time was lost to her grief and fear driving her home. Soon, and finally, she saw the way the land rose and then flatten out before her. The old fences beside her leading her closer. The top of the barn shinning in the morning light. She was home. Her heart was still thumping in her chest, and her hands shook as she gripped the reins. She had to tell Grandpa. He would know what to do.

Ty unclipped the lead rope under Duke's chin and watched as he pranced around the pen before settling into eating his hay. With a clang he closed the gate, quickly locking it shut. His fingers had grown used to the movement that his job required. He now worked with an easy that he had missed when he first arrived. Amy hadn't trying hard to hide her amusement at his lack of grace around horses. He felt a smile pull on his lips at the memory of her laughing at him, and the embarrassed anger he'd felt at the time. If he was honesty he had been timid around the animals at first. Their power and strength were intimating, and since trust was not something he gave easily, there was no where to hide. He'd had to face his fear. And he had, with Amy's help. Watching her showed him the way it could be, the way he wanted it to be for him too. Now only a few months later Mallory was teaching him to ride.

Behind him he heard a galloping horse, its gait steady, strong, constant, fast. Too fast. He spun around to find Amy on Spartan., rushing to pull him up at the barn. Something was wrong. His body moved towards her immediately, needing to be closer, needing to know what was wrong. Amy slid from her horse's back in a smooth motion, her feet hurrying toward the house the moment they reached the ground.

"Amy, what's wrong?" Ty's rushed voice came behind her. Without stopping or even slowing, she turned her head to look at him. Worry had found a place in every feature on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, finally reaching her. His eyes swept her body looking for injures, lastly landing on her face where he searched for any signs of pain.

"I'm fine. It's some mustangs. Come on." she said, her feet already climbing the steps to the house.

Jack leaned back from the window with a sign.

"That girl's going to get herself killed riding like that," he said shaking his head in worry. "Come on Grandpa, give her a break. She's still dealing with a lot," Lou defended her sister as she took a drink of coffee. At that moment Amy burst into the kitchen with Ty at her heels.

"What do you think you're doing, riding like that?" Jack demanded, ignoring Lou's suggestion.

"Grandpa, there are some mustangs not far from here, just over the north ridge. Some men were rounding them up and tailoring them out. And they shot one of them," Amy said, her words rushed and almost unrecognizable in her desperation to get them out, her voice still saturated with panic.

"Slow down," Jack said calmly and patiently, but the worry was obvious as his eyes dropped onto his granddaughter's face. Amy told him again what had happened, forcing herself to talk slower. Her breath was still rapid and she had to suck in air to form her words clearly.

The last words of her story, "They killed him," fell off her tongue still too fast, like the taste of them would make her sick if left in her mouth too long. Her eyes burned and new tears brimmed in them when she saw the horse in her mind, dead.

"You didn't go down there did you?" Jack asked instantly. Amy opened her mouth to answer, stunned that this would be his first question, his first concern.

"No," she said, because it was mostly true.

"And they didn't see you?" he pressed. There was no half truth this time. Her mind rushed for an answer, any answer that would get her out of telling him they did. But there wasn't one. She could tell him what happened and worry and anger him. Or lie. Amy looked into her grandpa's aged eyes, his brows pulled together in a question waiting for an answer. She didn't want to worry him. Heat swelled up her neck and burned her face until she knew it had to be a bright, obvious red. Her body would give her lie away. She inhaled a breath and then shook her head.

"No," she said too quietly, her eyes only dropping for a second before meeting her grandpa's again. She was determined to sell this lie, to convince him she hadn't thrown herself into danger. He should have caught her. Guilt covered her face, shinning from her eyes and the way her legs shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She'd never been a good liar. But Jack's relief shadowed his scenes, dulled his usually sharp eyes.

"Good," he breathed, the muscles in his shoulders relaxing. He stood there in thought, silent. If what Amy said was true, and these where horse thieves, they were dangerous. The idea that his granddaughter could have so immediately been in danger, so soon after his daughters death was too much. Relief settled over him when he heard that she'd been safe. That she hadn't been seen, that she hadn't been in harm.

Amy couldn't take the quietness. It was too loud, too empty. It was too calm, peaceful, too opposite to what she was feeling.

"We have to do something Grandpa," she told him desperately, pleading for his help. Jack nodded slowly, questions rolling over themselves in his head.

"I'm going to make some calls," he said.

"But Grandpa," Amy protected, not at all pleased by his lack of action. She had see that horse die, she didn't want death to clam anymore of them.

"We can't go in there guns blazing. We have to do this the right way," Jack said, with a little too much force. He was unwilling to let his family get hurt, ever to save horses. Amy just looked at him, hurt and surprised.

"Amy, just let Grandpa do this his way," Lou told her, her words final, but full of understanding. She knew how much those horses met to her sister. Finding nothing else to say, and nothing else she could do, Amy turn away, passing Ty on her way out the door.

He'd stood there silent the whole time, feeling his emotions move and twist like water. Anger that they killed that horse. Contempt at what they were doing to the others. Disappointment that he wasn't there, that he couldn't see it, that he couldn't do anything to stop them. And stronger than any of them, fear that Amy could have been hurt. As she rush passed him, he saw her eyes shine with tear even though she bent her head down to hide them. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should follow her. He wanted to. He glanced at Lou, and the way she nodded her head forward slightly told him he should.

The door smacked shut behind him as he hurried out, and he could feel the gravel shift under his feet as he half walked half ran after her. Not wanting to chase her, he forced himself to move slower. She was in the barn, he knew she was. Every time he'd seen her most broken, most upset, that's were she'd go. The wooden walls were her shelter, and the sound of the horse, the smell of hay, they were her security. She would lose herself in work, or sometimes just stand there, buried in her thoughts. By the time he made it there Amy was already untacking Spartan. Ty stood by the door, disappearing in the shadows, and watched her move smoothly and effortlessly. Her around horses was natural, like it had always been that way, and it probably was. She knew them so well, better then he'd know anything or anybody before. Sometimes he found himself jealous of her. Because she could trust so easily. It came naturally to her, born into her. Her belief in general goodness, and perhaps naïve misconception of people was so pure. He would never have that. He was the boy who was skeptical first, believing last. He was always wary of people's intensions, and reluctant to except favors. The people he'd know in his life didn't do things for him out of the kindness of their heart. Why would they? He never deserved it. Sometimes he wish he was more like her. Many times he'd wished that. It would put him one step closer to her, one step closer to deserving her.

Finally, he slowly stepped away from the door and further into the barn. Amy looked up at the sound of his footsteps. Without a word, she continued working, still not sure if she was ready to speak to anyone, even Ty.

"Do you uh, need any help?" he asked cautiously, but he knew she didn't. Her fingers pulled the bridle from behind Spartan's ears and down his face until the bit fell out of his mouth.

"No, I'm good," she said.

"Are you sure?" Ty asked looking at her eyes, his voice showing that he wasn't convinced. He wasn't talking about untacking Spartan anymore. Amy knew it too. She sucked in a deep breath that shook in her throat. She wasn't ok. But was she ready to break, in front of him? She looked at Ty's face, feeling moisture collecting in her eyes. His brown hair laid loose and messily across his forehead. His bright green eyes wider than normal, staring at her, staring through her. They were so deep and complicated. Sometimes she forgot how young he still was. His eyes held so many secrets. He could hold hers too. This was Ty, she could trust him.

She slowly shook her head and a drop of water fell down her face. She didn't, couldn't, hold the tears back anymore. The fear that she'd felt, the terror that she hadn't been able to release to her grandpa returned, settling in her stomach.

"Amy," Ty said stepping closer, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to comfort her, but more than that, he wanted to know what was wrong. This wasn't still about the shot horse.

"They did see me," Amy whispered, like she didn't want to say the words too loudly. Ty felt shock ripple through him, drawing desperate concern to his face.

"But you said," he countered.

"Don't tell Grandpa," Amy rushed, her eyes shooting opened. "He can't know." Confusion controlled Ty's thoughts. He reached out toward her, his fingers gripping her arms.

"Amy," he said, forcing her to meet his eyes. "What happened?" Her voice shook as she said,

"I was trying to leave, but there was someone behind me. I didn't see him, but then it was too late. I couldn't run because," she paused not wanting to finish. Not wanting to worry him. Not wanting to remember. But it was too late. "He grabbed my arm." Ty felt anger swell in him. It pulsed through him. Amy could see the emotions surfacing in Ty's eyes. Worry? She hadn't wanted to worry him. Anger? Was he angry because she lied? "He let me go Ty. But he warned me to mind my own business." she finish softly, hoping it would calm Ty.

He didn't know how to control, or even identify all he was feeling. He knew only that he was angry, not at her, but at whatever man reached out and grabbed her. Enraged even. And rage wasn't something Ty was foreign too. It wasn't something he misunderstood or misinterpreted. He knew it well. And he also knew he was relieved that she was ok. The way his heart pounded in relief, the intensity of it shocked him, overwhelmed him. It was the only thing that seemed to matter. She was safe. Steady tears fell from her cheeks, and the more she tried to stop them, the harder it was. Ty wanted to comforter her. But he wasn't good with words, never saying the right thing. So instead he wrapped her in his arms, feeling hers embrace him back. Her smaller body clung to him. He could feel her deep breaths against his chest.

"It's alright," he said gently. He would make sure it was. Amy pressed her head into Ty's shoulder, her tears wetting his shirt. Her cries finally calmed, and she sucked in deep breaths. She felt comforted by the way her fears hid when she was in his arms, the way they ran from the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. She believed him.

Ty felt Amy pull away, and reluctantly released her. He wasn't really for it to end. Then he realized why she looked so uncomfortable. It wasn't because of him. Jack was standing behind them, a slight look of amusement on his face.

"I just got off the phone with Scott," he said when he was sure he had both their attention. "He knows a guy who knows where they're keeping the horses. I'm going to go take a look."

"We're coming too," Amy said immediately, including Ty without thinking about it. Because when she did, she realized she wanted him to be there, with her.

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><p><strong>Please review! Thank you to everyone who reviewed or followed the last chapter. You guys have no idea what your feedback means to me. Again, sorry for any grammar mistakes. Next chapter should be up soon. Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this, and stick around for chapter 3 :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

She was going to go. She was going to be there to see what they had done to the horses. They had to be saved, and she had to see it. She had to go.

"No, I think you two better stay here," Jack said. He didn't pose it as a suggestion, one that could be ignored. It was a demand. Hidden behind gentle words, but a demand still.

"No, Grandpa, I'm the one who actually saw the horses. I'll be able to tell if they're the same ones," Amy said, quickly producing an excuse to go. It was valid and true though, unlike her lie earlier. She felt guilt lingering at the memory, her conscience pushing it to the front of her mind. Her grandpa didn't deserve to be lied to, but sometimes a lie was the only protection from a truth too painful or fearful to face.

"Now hold on, I don't want you two to get caught up in this. It could be dangerous" Jack said look from Amy to Ty, knowing how reckless, or perhaps better labeled as passionate his granddaughter could be when it can to horses, and how hotheaded Ty could be at times.

"It's too late, I'm already involved," Amy insisted, feeling frustration taking control of the tone in her voice.

"Yeah, come on Jack," Ty helped, "If it's so dangerous, you shouldn't go alone." He was as concerned and curious to find out about the mustangs as Amy. His eyes glanced towards her, and where met with her bright blue ones. His heart pulsed more quickly for a moment, and she looked away, thankful for his help. Jack stared at the pair of them, weighting their words against his caution. He glanced between them, like seeing them might change his mind one way or another. But Amy could tell, he'd already decided.

Ty slid into the bench seat next to Amy, who occupied the middle.

"Ready Jack," he called as Jack placed something in the bed of his truck. A rifle. He climbed in, slamming the door shut.

"Let's go," he said, as if they needed urging. Ty shifted in his seat to push himself closer to the window. He and Amy's bodies where so close they could easily touch if he let them. Part of him wanted to move closer again until the space between them was gone, and the other part wanted to draw away until he was pressing into the door of the truck. The emotions crawled over his skin and buried themselves in his heartbeat, making it move with a quickened rhythm. He finally relaxed his muscles until only his shoulder touched hers. She didn't flinch away, or even seem to notice. And so he left it there, feeling her warmth leaking into his skin. A thrill he didn't recognize or even understand settled in his stomach and he forced himself to hide an unexplainable smile from reaching his lips.

She did feel his shoulder pressing into hers. She did notice the pressure of his body next to her. She noticed it, but didn't. She and Ty had grown close. They were together, a lot. She was used to him being near, and at times she was surprised to find that she even expected him to be. She wanted him to be near. She could feel him touching her now, but was only aware of it like she was aware of her breathing. She noticed it only as deeply as she noticed the feeling of her lungs pulling in air. Or the warmth of her breath leaving her mouth. It was natural, so she didn't feel it even though she did. It was supposed to be there so it went unnoticed. Just like Ty touching her. Without realized it, she had began to expect him to be there, like a permanent fixture in her life. It didn't feel strange to be so close, to touch him. It felt involuntary, effortless, right.

"This guy Scott knows," Jack said interrupting both Ty and Amy's thoughts, "Said he knows these guys. They round up and sell mustangs."

"Are they allowed to do that?" Amy asked.

"It's technically not illegal, but most of the time these guys don't have a license, and they break a few laws to do it. And if that's the case, we'll catch them," her grandpa answered. She remembered the gun shot, and a shiver vibrate through her muscles. She felt Ty's eyes find her face as an answer to her body's movement. These guys defiantly didn't have a license, she was sure of it.

"Who are they selling them to? Who would buy wild, unbroken mustangs?" she said. Dread settled on Jack. He'd rather Amy didn't know, but she needed to. He didn't answer, but just look over at her for a moment before his eyes found the road again. Amy's face shifted from confusion to horror in a second.

"Grandpa, no," she said violently shaking her head like the motion itself would somehow stop what she knew was the truth. Lost to the meaning of Amy's words Ty asked,

"What? Who are they selling them to?" Amy, unable to say it, look to her grandpa to answer. With a sigh, him complied.

"They sell them to meat trucks."

Shock ate its way up Ty's throat and out his mouth with a silent gasp. Air rushed into his lungs and his mouth fell opened. They killed them? All of them? Disbelief roamed in his wide eyes. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say.

"How, how can they do that?"

"They can't, but no one stops them." Jack answered.

"Why not," Ty demanded, shocked that anyone could believe it was ok to abandon them to death.

"There's plenty of people who think we'd be better off without wild horses at all. They tear up fields, scare off game for hunter, and they carry diseases-"

"But that's no reason to kill them," Ty interrupted.

"I agrees, but most ranchers don't. They'd just as soon shoot them as deal with the problems," Jack said.

Ty remained silent. He had seen the bad people could do, he had experienced it himself. But the thought that anyone could condemn an innocent life like that… that they could sit back and soullessly let it happen, let creatures so undeserving suffer, was beyond him. Amy felt her eyes burn. She wouldn't cry again, no. But it had only take one mustang dying to hurt her, to make her heart ache. She wouldn't, couldn't let them all die. It would cripple her.

"This looks like it's it," Jack said finally as they pulled up to a driveway. A house and barn sat back from the road, little to block them from sight in the front. Aside for being on a country, rarely used road, these men weren't trying hard to hide. The house and barn both where old, the barn especially wearing its age with its faded, dry boards. The whole thing leaned to the side like time itself was pushing on it, and the earth below it was temping it to fall.

"Are you sure?" Amy asked, not seeing a single horse, or a living soul at all. Jacks eyes fell from the house to the paper at his side.

"Yep, this is the address," he confirmed.

They parked between the house and barn. Jack reached into the back of his truck and grabbed his gun, his fingers rest close to the trigger. He studied the land, searching for any sigh of danger, and any sigh of life.

"Stay here," he said over his shoulder, directing his words to both Ty and Amy as he walked towards the house. He'd rather them stay where they were safe.

Amy watched her grandpa walk away alone, for the first time wondering if they were in as much danger as he seemed to think. The air as still and dry, the sun hot as it reached midday. There was no calm, or peace from it though. It burned into the quietness around them, and lit everything so she could see how run-down and even abandon it looked. The unsettling silence made her feel uneasy, and she was grateful that Ty was standing beside her. "This place looks abandon," he said, echoing her thoughts. She nodded.

"Maybe it is," she started to say, almost convinced it was. Then she hear it. A whinny, coming from the barn.

"Ty, come on," she said, her body instantly moving towards the noise without a moments thought. The sound of the horse was like a magnet, a pull she couldn't resist. Ty didn't hesitate to follow, even though he heard Jack's instructions in his head. He wouldn't let Amy go alone, and there was nothing he could say to stop her.

They reached the barn in a matter or seconds, and Ty had to help Amy pull open the large wooded door. Instantly blinded by darkness, hot air rushed into their faces, and a horrid stench filled their noses. Their eyes roamed the dark, looking for any light. Amy coughed as she cautiously moved forward, with Ty pressing in close behind her. Slowly the black began to fade into the dim light now coming from the open door. The air was thick with dust, and smelled like manure. Both Amy and Ty were immediately aware of the number of flies that were everywhere. Stalls lined both sides of them, and they could see and smell the urine soaked into the wood. Standing inside of them, packed and too crowded, where the mustangs.

It was three or four to a stalls, and the lack of space restricted their movement to almost none. Already some of them had sores on their faces with flies swarmed to them. Amy could see a few with cuts of their legs, their blood dried and dark, where they had fought the trailer. Her throat and mouth already felt dry, yet Amy couldn't see a drop of water anywhere. A gasp, quiet and low released from her lips slowly, as she turned to see all this, until there was no air left in her lungs. Her body shook with anger as she gradually move toward the closest stall, which held three mares, one with a hurt leg. She had see them only hours ago, bathed in sunlight, breathing fresh air, their legs running through grass. They'd been so beautiful. Now they were reduced to this. It was so unfair, so cruel. Fury moved though her.

"Ty," she whispered, unable to say anything else. But the emotion drenching her voice, and the way it shook made it enough. Ty felt shock wash over him too. Horror and anger burned in him, matching Amy's feelings. He felt a desperation, a sudden urgencies to somehow make this right. To somehow fix what these men had done to them.

Suddenly, he heard movement behind him and turned to see someone, a dark shadow against the sun, coming towards them. His heart jump to his throat, and his heart raced. He slowly moved, his footsteps slowly carrying him towards Amy until his body was placed in front of her. Whoever was coming would reach him first. He glance back at Amy, and fear shone from her eyes. The person stepped into the barn and was swallowed by darkness for a second before he could see who it was.

"Jack!" Ty breathed in relief.

"I thought I told you to stay by the truck," Jack said angrily.

"Grandpa, look," Amy ignored his question. "It's the mustangs, the ones I saw this morning."

"Wow, they're beautiful," Jack said, staring at them in awe. Even in a dirty, cramped barn where they were pressed together they looked beautiful. His heart sunk when he notice the condition they where in.

"Did you find anything?" Ty asked. Jack shook his head, the awe dropping away from his eyes.

"There's no one here. And until we can find them, there's nothing we can do."

"We have to do something," Amy insisted, "look at these horses grandpa."

"We'll notify the police, and they'll keep an eye out for theses guys. They'll check them for a license, which I doubt they have. And even if they do, I'm sure they're breaking a lot of rules with this setup," he said glancing around. "They'll catch them."

"But what about these guys? That could take a long time. These horses could already be dead by then," Amy said, immediately upset.

"We just have to hope that doesn't happen," her grandpa said, giving her a small smile that was meant to be encouraging, but had little effect.

It wasn't going to happen, she wasn't going to let it. She wasn't going to let them die. "Grandpa, please," she pleaded, begging him to do something, anything. "This is wrong," she said, motioning around them. "You know it is."

"I'm sorry Amy, but we can't do anything without breaking the law," Jack said, a look of regret and sadness in his eyes. "We, should go," he sad gently. Amy didn't follow for a moment, unwilling to leave the horse like this. But when her grandpa nodded at her, telling her to come, she didn't know what else to do but obey. She glances back as she was stepping out of the barn, her eyes filling with tears. She wasn't going to let them die. She wasn't going to give up on them.

Ty knew it too. He could see the pain in her eyes as she looked back. It was too much pain for her to bare, too much for her to live with. She was going to do whatever she could to rid herself of that pain, and that meant saving the horse. He followed behind her as she turned and walked away. She was going to do something impulsive and reckless. He knew she was. And he knew he couldn't let her do it alone. He couldn't let her get hurt.

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><p><strong>And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.<strong>

**Thanks so much for reading! And thank you all so much for reviewing, following, and the favorites. It means so much to me, and each one is loved and appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next one will be up soon. Merry Christmas, and God bless you all.**


	4. Chapter 4

The silences in the truck on the way back to Heartland was loud and empty. It rang in Amy's ears until the sound drowned out everything else and it was just her and the memory of the horses. The sight of them, the smell of the urine and manure, the dryness in her throat, and dust in the air. It was vivid and clear, like the pain. Deliberate and direct, like a blade had found its mark imbedded in her chest. Seeing them suffer was painful, and she was forced to leave them like that, hurt, abused, and left to dehydrate in the heat. It was wrong, wrong in so many ways. Maybe her grandpa was right that they couldn't do anything without breaking the law, but he was still wrong to leave them like that, to just abandon them. She knew she had to do something.

She exited the truck the moment its tires stopped. She felt trapped in hurt and disappointment, it was swallowing her and she had to escape into the fresh, empty air. She let it fill her lungs as the sun began to melt away her grief for the mustangs. Jack and Ty's footsteps crunched in the gravel behind her and she walked away from them quickly, heading for the barn. She needed to be alone, to hear her own thoughts clearly, to untwist the emotions pulling at her.

Ty watched Amy walk away wondering just how much she was hurting. How much pain did it take to drive her away? He knew she was strong. She displayed her strength everyday in the way she pressed through the grief of her mother's death. There were times Ty could see it hitting her like waves. Washing away a smile, stifling a laugh, dragging away the light from her eyes. But instead of letting it drown her, she always took a breath and fought through it. She was strong. But if any part of her was weak it was horses. In them she poured out all the feelings she didn't share with people, and she loved them. Enough to where it endangered her. Their pain hurt her too much, their suffering was more than she could take. That's why she was so good at what she did. Why she could save the ones everyone else counted as lost. She couldn't give up, couldn't let them go. That's also why Ty knew she was probably already broken. And he wanted to help her, to somehow fix her, but he couldn't.

Jack noticed the way Ty's eyes followed Amy. He saw the longing in them, the desire to go to her, to comforter her. But he knew his granddaughter. When her pain became too much of a burden she didn't share it. She didn't let anyone help carry it. She let it collapse over her and consume her. Then she would push away any possible help because she was afraid if people saw her weakness, somehow it would make her even weaker. Jack knew Amy wouldn't want Ty, of all people, to see her upset.

And he was also too fond of Ty to let him get hurt. He didn't want him to feel like he was being cut off, or shut out. He had experienced too much of that in his young life already. He stepped nearer to Ty until he could reach him, and then rested his hand of his shoulder. Ty finally pulled his eyes away from Amy onto Jack's face. The older man gave a small smile.

"Just give her some time. She'll come around." he said. Ty nodded. But he was still convinced that she wouldn't be, not until the horses where safe. "I'm going to have a chat with the police," Jack said. With a gentle hand he gave Ty a squeeze on the shoulder before walking away.

Amy rested her chin on the wood of Spartan's stall, letting the smell of pine fill her nose. Her horse came to her and nosed her hair and face, looking for handouts. When he found no treats he just stood there in front of her. She reached out until her fingers touched him, and then drug them down his face. She slide her hand down his smooth neck, and ran her fingers through his mane. When she had first seen him it had been evening, just before the sun disappeared. He had been thin and filthy, his hair matted with mud. He skin sunk into his ribs, and clung to his hips. Fly bitten sores had covered various places on his body, and his head had hung low, his nose almost touching the dirt. He was weak and broken, body and spirit. At that moment Amy had fallen in love with him. Instant and unexplainable. It wasn't because he was beautiful and strong, like she saw him now, but because he wasn't. Her heart had broken for him, and the broken pieces had found their way to Spartan's, and had attached to his, twisted and interlock together. There was no separating them. She loved him.

That night she had saved him, and had lost her mother too. In that one night everything changed. Her mom had been scared. She would never have said it, and Amy had missed it too. She had only seen the strength and commitment her mother had shown. But now distanced by time, Amy could see that she'd been wrong. Marion had been scared that night. She could remember seeing fear in her mother's eyes. She remembered hearing doubt in her voice. But dedication and love for one horse had over shadowed it, had became more important. Amy felt a need to do the same. She had to put aside her fear and save the mustangs. They couldn't die.

"We're not giving up on them Amy," Ty's voice sounded behind her. She turned her head over her shoulder and saw him standing only a few feet behind her with his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. She hadn't even heard him come in the barn. His face looked as serious as she'd ever seen it, wiped of all his usual sarcasm, and no joke on his tongue. He rarely took things seriously when he should, and often joked when he shouldn't. But now he looked her in the eyes, and wore an expression that was determined to convince her, to ease her mind.

"We're not going to abandon them," he said.

"If we wait, it could be too late," she countered. She grateful for Ty's encouragement, but unwilling to leave it at that.

"That's not going to happen," he said, but he didn't know why. He couldn't promise that. Not if he did nothing.

"You don't know that," Amy whispered, like she was speaking only to herself. Like she was trying to remind herself of this truth, not him.

"It could have been Spartan," she said looking back at her horse, her hand absentmindedly stroking him. "Who knows where he would have gone, or what would have happened to him." She couldn't stop herself from comparing them. Spartan had been more damaged then the mustangs where, but that was only because he had longer to suffer, longer to break. Time had eaten away at him, and it had taken so much time to put him back together, to heal him, to nurse the flame in him back to life. Amy knew if the mustangs where left in the condition they where in, they would become worse, weaker and more scarred, just like Spartan had been when she found him. And if she did nothing, they would become unfixable, or die.

Ty felt fear surface inside of him again. She was going to do something reckless. He saw it swimming in her eyes, pushed forward by the pain she felt for them.

"You'll get hurt," he said suddenly, his worry controlling his words. Amy's eyes shot opened and realization appeared in them. He knew, he knew what she was going to do. But how? How did he know her so well? She searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he'd misspoken, that he didn't really know. But all she saw where her own plans laid out in his eyes, like a mirror reflecting her thoughts. He knew.

"Ty," she started to say, but was stopped.

"Amy, listen to me. This is a bad idea. Trust me, I would know," he finished quietly, with regret in his voice. Amy suddenly felt guilt pull on her chest. She knew Ty had made mistakes, he had told her of his past. And now she was rejecting authority, disobeying reason, and putting herself in danger, the very things that had messed up his life. Now he had to watch her do it too, afraid it would get her hurt like it had him.

He didn't know how to portray the emotions he felt, to express the depth of them with just words. They seemed too shallow and empty compared to the strength of his feelings. How could she possible know how much he feared for her, how mush he wanted to protect her if all he could use were words? They weren't enough. He needed something to push them deeper, until she heard them. He reached out until his hands were gripping her shoulders, clinging to her.

"Amy, please," he begged. He could only hope she could feel the desperation through his finger tips. That she could sense the fear in his shaking voice. That she could understand the plead in his eyes. His hands pressed harder into the skin of her shoulders like it would press reason into her. His eyes were begging her to listen, but reflecting back at him was only determination. Saving them was a need, a have to, like it was a life source she couldn't abandon. This was something she had decided she had to do. So in that one moment, without a word spoken, he made a decision as well. He was going too.

"When?" he asked.

Surprise shined in her eyes. Relief filled her, followed by more guilt. She couldn't drag him into this.

"You don't have to come," she said.

"I'm not letting you do this alone," he told her, his words final and complete. He wasn't going to let her get hurt, not before he had done everything he could to keep her safe. "When?" he repeated the question.

"After dark," was her answer.

Ty leaded against his truck, hidden in its shadow. It was dark, but the full moon cast a showing glow over everything. He was careful to stay out of sight as he waited for Amy to come out of the house. He had wanted to leave her behind, to leave without her knowing. It would spare her danger and possible harm. He felt a desire to protect her, and to do whatever it took to keep her safe. He couldn't identify these feelings, but they were the same ones that made him want to be around her, that pulled him near. He would be able do it alone. He wasn't a stranger to this kind of thing. Past mistakes had made him skilled in ways he wasn't proud of even though he knew they would aid him tonight. But Amy would never forgive him if he left her. He was willing to face her anger to keep her safe. But there was something else, something in her, she had to see them saved. She wouldn't be whole until she was there and saw it. He looked up when he heard her coming. She was walking swiftly towards him, glancing back at the dark house.

"Grandpa's asleep," she said as soon as she was close enough to be heard in a whisper. Guilt sat on her face for a moment before she shrugged it off. She couldn't think about him.

The intense summer heat had only cooled slightly when the sun set. Little of the warmth was chased away by the darkness, and Ty could see sweat already shining on Amy's skin. 'Ready?" he asked. She nodded. They climbed into Ty's truck, easing the doors shut as quietly as possible. Once the engine was started, Ty pulled away quickly to hide the sound from unwanted ears. They remained quiet until they were a few minutes down the road.

"What's your plan?" Ty broke the silence. Amy looked at him hesitantly.

"We can let them out, then chase them away so they wouldn't be caught again," she said simply.

"What if someone's there," Ty was forced to reason. They couldn't jump into this without knowing what they were getting themselves into.

"We'll wait for them to leave," she answered.

"And if they don't?" "We'll wait for them to go to sleep, or something," she said not entirely sure. Ty glanced at her, doubt in his eyes.

"We have to try Ty. We can't just let them die." Amy said, answering his silent question, was this worth the risk? Ty glanced from the road to her, his eyes filling with just her face. Shadows wrapped most of her body in darkness, but her eyes were glowing from the moonlight reflecting in them. She looked worry, and scared, and determined.

"I know," he said.

"We're getting close," Ty said as they neared the familiar driveway. "We'll stop here." he pulled his truck as far to the side of the road as possible, where the trees formed a black space to hide in. Quietly the two crept their way along the woods until the barn and then house came into view. Amy moved slowly forward but was stopped when fingers wrapped around her arm and pulled her down to the ground.

"Hold on," Ty whispered glancing around them.

"There's no one here," Amy said just loud enough to be heard, looking at the black house and barn against the dark blue sky. Everything was still and silent, dry and empty. Ty shifted his eyes from one unmoving thing to another, scanning for any disturbance. Slowly he nodded in agreement. It seemed to be clear of anyone. Amy stepped forward again only to have Ty's grip on her arm tighten.

"Amy wait," he whispered, "I'll let the horses out, you stay here." He hoped somehow she would listen to him this time.

"I'm going with you," she answered immediately without even considering his suggestion, like she hadn't really heard what he said.

"Please," Ty said, searching her eyes for agreement, "Just let me do this."

"I'm going to help," Amy said, her voice strong, unrelenting. Ty's heart raced under his ribs. She had to listen. She didn't realized how dangerous this was.

"Amy, I" he stammered, forcing the words out, "I don't want you to get hurt." The fear behind them made it hard to speak. "Please," he whispered again, quieter than necessary. The word felt like it was pushed out of his mouth by air. He was desperate.

Amy looked at Ty, not towards him, at him, in his eyes, at his face. Her confidence began to recede back into her body, and doubt quickly stole its place. For the first time she could remember, he looked scared. All his strength and confidence striped away, leaving his eyes wide and full of hesitation. But it wasn't for himself. He was trying to protect her. A feeling of heat build inside of her at that recognition. It felt almost too hot, like it would burn her. She couldn't tell if it was gratefulness or maybe contentment? Was the part that was too hot, the part that was uncomfortable guilt? Or was it something else new and wakening for the first time? It couldn't matter now though, she quickly decided.

"I'm not going to get hurt. We are going to go down there and let the horses out. Nothing's going to happed." She was far less confident that she sounded, and had to swallow to calm the lurching of doubts and fear swimming in her stomach. Ty's eyes dropped.

"If we get caught-"

"we won't Ty," she insisted. His tense muscles collapsed in defeat and disappointment. He couldn't make her stay.

"Then stay by me," he said eyeing her, refusing to move until she promised. She nodded.

"Let's go," he said quietly as he stepped forward. His hand, which was still holding her arm, slide down her skin, sticky with sweat in the heat, and reached her hand. Without either noticing, their fingers locked around each other's, and their palms pressed together. Their bodies moved in sync as they stepped out of the woods into the open space and ran to the barn. The presser of their hands clasp together pressed confidence back into them. It pressed away the fear. The heat of their touching skin, though unnoticed, was a constant reminder that they weren't alone. They had each other.

Once inside the barn, they moved quickly, with a since of purpose that urged their steps. A smell, thick with pneumonia choked them even after they opened the back doors, which would lead the mustangs away, to freedom. Amy ran to the first stall and unlatched the door, pulling it open wide. Unaware that they where released, the horses inside didn't move.

"Amy, we have to hurry," Ty whispered.

"They'll go, just give them a second," she said. As if cued by her words, the first mustang stepped out, and then darted outside. The others immediately followed. One by one Amy and Ty opened the stalls, watching the horses gallop out, escaping to freedom. "Hurry," Ty urged again.

"Just one more," Amy whispered in excitement as she ran to the furthest stall. Her fingers where just about to pull open the latch when she heard them. Voices, just outside the door, clear, close, and unavoidable. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Fear burned inside of her like fire, and her face flushed with panic. Terror climbed from the inside of Ty's heart out, ripping it apart. His muscles tighten in horror. They were trapped.

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><p><strong>Please review! I would love to know what you think. Again, thank you to all that has reviewed, followed or favorited so far. And thanks so much for reading. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Next one should be up soon.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

They were trapped. The voices were too close, their owners too near. There was no where to escape to, nothing but fear and shadows to hide behind. All they could do was wait in mounting dread, in tortured silence, in agonizing stillness for them to come. Amy's hand trembled against the cool metal latch she was still gripping, her knuckles now pale. A shuttering breath inch from her lungs and out her mouth. Breathing was hard. Her legs quivered beneath her threatening to collapse. Standing was hard.

Fear. It surge through her, in her tense muscles, in between her heart beat, wrapping around her breathes, choking them. They were coming. The sudden movement of an excited horse, anxious to be free distracted her. The bay in the stall she was standing in front of was the last one trapped. Suddenly she knew. She knew she and Ty couldn't get away. She knew there wasn't enough time. She knew they were trapped. She knew the men were coming. And she knew she could and had to save this last horse. She heard the wood of the barn door groan with movement. They were so close. Her fingers pulled the latch up and then over. It slide smoothly. The barn door swung open, darkness swallowing whomever stood at its open hinges. They were there. Amy jerked the stall door opened and stepped back as the mustang raced out, bolting into the night and freedom. Turning slowly to face whomever loomed in front of them, Amy's eyes widened when she saw three men step into the pale silver light of the moon that poured in through the opened back door. Immediately she recognized one of them. He was the one who had seen her earlier, the one who had grabbed her. Her body trembled.

Shock and anger sprang onto each one of the men's faces as they watched the horse Amy released sprint away. The red end of a lit cigarette fell from a mindless hand. Beer bottles slipped from loose fingers. Voices brought to a rearing halt. They all stood frozen for a moment, until one of the men stepped towards them.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, his voice loud and bouncing in the now empty stalls. Amy wanted to open her mouth, to find an answer. She wanted to shout at them, to tell them that she had saved the mustangs they had wronged. But her lips didn't move, her voice dead inside of her.

"Answer me!" the man's anger turned to rage as he began to step towards her. She shrank back in terror. Suddenly there was a body in front of her, standing between her and the man, keeping him from reaching her. Ty.

"Hey, hold on," he was saying as he held his hands up in protect, his voice struggling to sound calm.

"You let them go!" the man yelled in his face, his anger now pinned on Ty. His breath was sharp and bitter. He was drunk.

"We-" Ty tried to answer before being stopped when the man grabbed at his shirt and spun him into the wall. His back slammed into the wood, his right shoulder hitting something metal. He heard Amy's voice screech his name in shock and fear. Pushing himself away from the wall, he tried desperately to pull himself free from the man's grasp. In the quick struggle the man reared his leg, bringing it down and driving his foot into Ty's ankle. A sick cracking sounds preceded Ty's gasp of pain.

Amy watched in horror as he fell to the ground clutching his hurt leg. He pressed his teeth together, refusing to yell or scream out. Only a gasping groan escaped his lips. She could see how much he was hurting. And she could tell by his sharp quick breaths, by the way he squeezed his eyes shut, and the shaking and rocking back and forth of his body that he was masking the pain. He was just suffering through it. The way he breathed through it told too clearly how strong he was, how hardened he was, like he was used to being hurt, like he was used to feeling pain. And Amy realized, in a moment of shock and horror, that he was. He wasn't a stranger to abuse.

He felt a sharp crippling pain that blacken his vision. His heart jerked and his body tensed as if trying to somehow escape, or ward off the sickening ache that erupted through his ankle. Even his skin seemed to burn in protect. All of it, everything churned together in agony. His fingers dug into the dry, dirt floor of the barn searching for relief. They crawled through the scattered pieces of hay attempting to find something to grip to, to squeeze the anguish away. There was nothing, so his fingertips press into the palm of his own hands, clenching a fist to fight off the misery. He sucked air into his lungs, and then blew it out through his mouth until the initial shock passed and he could control his actions again.

Every instinct pulled Amy towards the ground where Ty was lying. She wanted to sink down beside him. Her body was already lowering towards him when a voice stopped her. Recognition inched up her back paralyzing her.

"You," the voice said. "You're the girl from this morning." The man that had grabbed her earlier stepped forward, staring at her. Seeing his face, she felt the ghost of his fingers gripping into her arm.

"I told you to mind your own business and keep away from us!" he bellowed, his words droning in her ears. She shook, her heart pumping out fear. She pressed back away from him until she hit a wall and couldn't move any further. There was nowhere to go. Amy glanced at Ty on the ground. This was her fault. This had been her idea. He had told her not to. He had warned her that it was dangerous, and that she could get hurt. She hadn't listened. In the end she had gone anyway and he had came too. He came to protect her, to keep her safe. She felt guilt drop onto her, crushing her. She had known he would come. She had known he wouldn't let her go alone. And still she had insisted. She didn't listen. She had ignored his pleading and begging and now he was hurt, badly. And it was her fault. Because of her impulsive act he had been injured while trying to protect her.

Ty's eyes had been squeezed shut, but when he heard voices speaking again he opened them to see the man nearing Amy. Terror and pain ripped through him. They moved together, roaming hand in hand inside of him. He knew he had to stop the man. He couldn't let him reach her. He knew he had to get them out of this. He couldn't let her get hurt.

His dad, his real dad had left him. Ty had few good memories of the man that had fathered him. And the few he had where smothered in anger and spread thin in an attempt to cover all the bad. And there were a lot of bad. But none compared to his final blow, his abandonment. His father had chosen his twisted version of freedom over his own family, over Ty. Then his stepfather had came and he was worse, much worse. While his dad might have had a small amount of instinctive love for his son, Wade was not burdened with the emotion. He had abused and tormented him. And Wade had taught him what hate was. Both the receiving end, and the giving.

His mom, he was sure had loved him, at some point. But slowly he had watched the love ebb away and fear take its place. Fear of Wade, and worse, more sickening to Ty, fear of losing him. His mom was trapped in Wade's hold and she couldn't get free. For some reason, one Ty had tried desperately to understand but couldn't, she cared for Wade. Despite what he did to her son. Despite what he did to her, she cared. And it hurt Ty worse than any beating he ever took from Wade. Because she chose that cruel man over her own son.

Even after Ty had seen the love leave her eyes he had still clung to hope that some amount of affection for him still existed in his mother. He chose to believe that it was just too deeply buried to see. But the day he had stood in front of her, with a bruise on his cheek give to him by his stepfather, and tears in his eyes and begged her to flee, to take them away from the torment, she said no. That was the day he stopped hoping somehow his mother still loved him. She couldn't. She had picked Wade over him. Ty had lost his mom, the only person he could remember really caring about, the only person he ever remembered loving completely. There were times he'd though he loved his dad, but they were so few and far between that he had been forced to admit that it couldn't be real, not truly. He had lost his mom to a man that used and hurt her and it hadn't been within his power to stop.

But seeing Amy shrink away from the man towering over her, he sudden felt that this wasn't much different. Someone he cared about, someone innocent and kind, was going to be hurt by a man who was both strong and cruel. He knew he care about Amy, more than he had let himself care about anyone for a long time. It was powerful and moving his emotions out of his control. It was deep and firm within him. She had an undeniable affect on him. And he wasn't going to watch her be hurt. He had lost everyone else one by one, and he hadn't been able to stop it. But this time he could. He wasn't going to let it happen. He couldn't lose her too. She was all he had.

Amy searched the man's eyes, seeing only rage. He was drunk, they all were. Trepidation claimed her. Her muscles were water, weak, and frozen stiff inside of her. In one dreaded moment she realized she had no clue what to do. And when the instant came that she thought the man would actually reach her and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him, a groan of intervention sounded beside her. Ty had found his feet, or rather his foot. He was leaning fully on his uninjured leg and his face was distorted with pain. But his eyes burned with determination.

"Leave her alone," he said. Rage was not the word for the man standing in front of Amy now. He was beyond anger and rage and fury. They had woven together and intertwined with the effects of his alcohol so that he arrived at a place of complete madness.

Ty reached his arm out until it stood between the attacker and Amy. It was too small a barrier but unable to hardly stand, it was all he could manage. It was enough though. Enough to drag the man's attention away from her onto himself. The drunk tried to shove at him first, to push him back. But Ty successfully blocked him. When the man's fist spun at his face though, he couldn't move away and he couldn't stop it. It struck him in the cheek near his eye. His neck snapped to the side at the contact, and his mind spun in blackness for a instant. He met the ground before he knew he was falling, the impacted releasing new pain up his leg. He'd been hit before, many times. And this time felt no different. It hurt. The fresh shooting pain in his face combined with the throbbing ache in his ankle so that everything seemed to hurt with an intense consuming pain. Thick, warm wetness slid down his skin from the new cut on his face. He shook the dizziness away to focus, and looked up to meet Amy's eyes.

They were wide and terrified. Her lips were help apart as if noise was supposed to be coming out and couldn't. She stood unmoving, the gasp or scream that had formed in her lungs only made it half way up her throat before being snared by shock. The man wasn't done. Spinning on her, he swung the back of his hand at her in blind anger, carrying it though until it smacked into her head. Unprepared for the blow, it sent her wheeling backwards, cracking the back of her head into the wood with a dull, sickening thud. There was pain, exploding through her skull and down her neck. There was black, and sight, and redness, like the blood on Ty's face each flinching back and forth. There was consciousness, loose and fleeting. She was able to grip to it long enough to see Ty's eyes fill with complete, absolute horror, and then it pulled away too quickly and forcefully to snatch. There was nothing

Her name came off his lips like a gun shot, loud and instant. It wasn't a call to be answered. He knew she wouldn't answer. He watched her slump to the ground, her tense muscle loosen, and her eyes close. Panic, raw uncontrolled panic erupted through his entire being. Every pounding, racing heartbeat pulsing with it. Every shuttering, choking breath drenched in it. Every terrified, shocked thought consumed by it. Before Ty could even move, before his body could react, the man stepped back with horror at what he'd done written across his face. Realization dawned somewhere in his sane mind. His two companions, sharing in his distress, moved to voice their reproach. "You.." one said but was stopped.

"Let's-" Amy's attacker stuttered. "Let's just go find the mustangs." Unsure what else to do, the others nodded their agreement and hurried from the barn in desperation to get away from the disastrous situation.

Alone. They were finally alone. But what should have been pure relief, was terror. For a moment he just stayed where he'd fallen, his strength and will to move gone. But finally urgency pushed him into motion. On his hands and knees he crawled to her, ignoring the agony that each movement release in his ankle and the unsteady swaying in his head that lingered from his own blow. She was so still, her limbs arrange in an unnatural position, her head laying loose and limp. His trembling hands stretched out to her, stopping before his fingers reached her. They hovered over her body afraid to touch her, like she was glass going to shatter in his hands. His mouth opened and formed one word.

"Amy" The name was said without volume, silent past his lips. "Amy," he said again this time in a whisper. His voice shook and broke. Water collected along the rim of his eyes. He remembered crying several times in his life, rarely in the past few years. He cried when his dad left him for the last time. He cried when Wade first started hitting him. He cried the day his mom chose Wade over him. And he cried now. It wasn't a broken weeping, but a few desperate tears ushered out of his eyes by complete fear. He didn't know what to do. Sucking in a breath, he finally touched her, taking her head in his hands. She felt so weak, fragile, so easily damaged. But she already was. He had let her get hurt. Guilt swallowed him. He had came to keep her safe and she was lying limp and unconscious in his arms. How utterly he had failed. He knew at that moment that he should have left without her. He could have taken her anger if it keep her from harm. He should have convinced to her let him release the horses alone. She would be safe. Her breath was too shallow to be seen, and too quiet to be heard. She seems so lifeless. The thought brought a desperate shout from Ty's lungs. "Amy, Amy please wake up. Open your eyes." A loud defending silence answered his cry.

Heat, and light. At first they went unnoticed. Growing and building in the background of his panic. Lost to the fear of his mind. Suddenly the heat touched his skin and the light caught his eye. Flames. Burning. The hay was burning. It was on fire. A spark of complete shock, one like the ember from the cigarette that started the blazing fire behind him, ignited in his mind, spreading through his whole body. The barn was on fire. And he was hurt, in agonizing pain, unable to walk. And worse, much worse, Amy was unconscious, unable to move or even acknowledge this new threat. Fear stronger than he'd ever know, and more of it than he ever though he could feel consumed him. Hopelessness and determination met like water and oil. Different and conflicting. Both as strong as the other. The flames moved, reaching and pulling. Building and withering. It was climbing up the wood of the stalls, the dry summer heat that had pulled all the water from the boards long ago aiding it greatly. The heat ate at Ty's face and hands. It was alive and deadly, seeking their lives to burn them away. Amy's skin was warming in his hands. No, he couldn't let this happen. Determination, it was stronger than the hopelessness. He had to get them out of this. He couldn't let her die. She was all he had.

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><p><strong>Please review! I would love to know what you think. It means so much to me. I'm truly sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I hope you enjoyed this and I'll try to get the next one up soon. Thanks so much for reading!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

The flames shifted, rising and jerking. Shaping and shrinking. They were growing in heat and intensity, bright and filling Ty's terrified eyes. The heat came closer, hotter, until its full strength reach him. It was biting at his fingertips. It was biting at the back of his hands, eating at his palms. Then it crawled up his arms and neck and reached his face. It stung and burned his skin, the dryness and heat forcing his eyes to squint in an attempt to fight the agony. It was crippling, consuming, everywhere. It was ripping him apart. Then it reached his lungs, pulling the breath from his mouth. A desperate, frightened part of him was glad Amy was motionless and silent next to him. She couldn't feel the pain.

He couldn't see the smoke entering his body. But he could feel it. He could feel it smothering him, weighing down each gasp, slowing each one to a painful struggle. He could feel it smothering the life in him. Blackness crept to the edge of his vision. This wasn't just darkness, it was nothingness. Unconsciousness calling to him, eventual death waiting for him. He couldn't let it happen. The heat was digging deeper, burying itself painfully within him. It was ripping apart every fiber of his being, burning in his flesh, boiling his blood. Ty knew he had to get them away from the heat and the flames before he too fell unconscious.

He pulled his t-shirt over his mouth, his lungs already burning for air. Quickly putting Amy's over her lips too, he gathered her limp, crumpled body from the ground. Her head rolled to the side, and Ty saw with horror that thick, dark blood was falling down her face from a gash above her hairline. The heat of the fire pushed at him, like waves exploding repeatedly. Persistent and constant. He felt it digging deeper, in ways he didn't know was possible. Ignoring the pain and relying on the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, Ty stood, lifting Amy in his arms. She was light, and holding her was easy compared to the difficulty of simply standing on his injured ankle.

He took a step, silencing a gasp as pain shot up his leg. He buckled to the side and his shoulder hit the wall keeping him from falling to the ground. Dragging in a choking breath he continued. If he didn't they would burn, and they would die. Each step on his hurt ankle was agony. The presser of his weight and Amy's in his arms felt like it was crushing the injury more, compressing the damage already done. He knew this was making it worse. He knew by the unbelievable misery each step caused that it couldn't be doing anything else. But he didn't think to stop. He didn't think to succumb to the pain and give up, because that meant death, for him, and for her.

Limping and dragging himself away from the flames and towards the doors, he could feel the heat weakening against his back. With each step it faded more, growing more distant and no long completely filling every space around them. But it wasn't until he actually stepped through the doors did its intensity dissipate. Cool air rushed down his throat and filled his burning lungs. It washed over his face, finally chasing away the heat that had swelled around him and throbbed with burning energy. A summer night breeze drug the warmth from his skin, pulling with it some of the panic and terror climbing inside of him. At that moment he felt such sudden, consuming relief that it brought him to his knees.

Sucking in breath after breath he remained still, letting his shaking muscles fill with new oxygen. Savoring the relief, and valuing the abrupt silence around them, Ty felt a desperate desire to stay there where he'd fallen. Somehow here it felt safe. Here he could ignore the chaos and escape the panic. Here he could even forget the pain, the aching and burning in his body. It was just he and Amy away from immediate life threading danger.

He looked down at her. The sweat covering her face was shinning in the fire light behind them. Blood had smeared across her cheek, dark and sickening. Loose pieces of her hair stuck to both., now knotted and stained. Finally he could see her chest moving, rising and falling as she breathed the fresh air. A choke of joy fell from his mouth. She no longer looked lifeless. She no long remained completely and utterly motionless in his arms. And yet she was still limp and silent, still unconscious and unaware. Getting back up meant facing more possible threats. Standing back up meant having to overcome more obstacles. It meant being forced to endure more pain. But staying where they were meant hurting Amy. Because it meant refusing to get her the help she desperately needed. And Ty couldn't stomach the though of failing her in that way too. So he collected his remaining strength and stood, bearing most of the weight on his uninjured leg. Cradling Amy's bleeding head on his shoulder, he began limping as quickly as he could towards his truck.

He could smell smoke filling the air around them. And then he heard the voices of the men in the woods, shouting and searching for the mustangs, still oblivious to the fire. Anger, raw and only dulled slightly by the extreme fear he was still experiencing raked him. After everything they'd gone through to free them, the thought that these men could recapture the horses was unthinkably cruel. He could only hope the mustangs had known enough to ran as far and fast as possible. He found himself hoping that the barn would burn to the ground, leaving nothing behind. The enraged part of him hoped that there would be nothing left and every last bit of it would be destroyed. It would be a small but satisfying consequence for what those men had done. But their voices ignited something other than anger in him, more fear. Ty knew he had to get them as far away as he could, as quickly as his body could. Their shouts where like probes pushing at his back. They were a warning, constant in his ears and urging him forwards.

With each step his injures screamed in protect. He knew without a hint of doubt that the adrenaline in his veils was the only thing enabling him to walk. He knew without it the pain would be too much, and the severity of the damage in his ankle would be truly crippling. It was broken, or cracked at least. He had felt this pain before. The excruciating eruption that came with each movement. The agonizing deep aching that followed each heartbeat. The crushing pressure and instant swelling. He had felt it before and he knew it meant a break. But he didn't stop, hoping everything that was masking the pain, be it fear or panic or something else, would last long enough to get them to his truck. He could feel weakness approaching. Amy was growing heavier and heavier in his arms, and his heart was pounding in an attempt to keep up with his movement. The speed at which he could limp wasn't fast, far too slowly in fact, but he was panting anyway.

More than once he almost fell. More than once he almost stumbled onto his face, but by some miracle he stayed up. And it was nothing short of a blessing when he saw the dark shadow of his truck through the trees. Exhaustion had finally drained him by the time he reached it. With a violently trembling hand he pulled open the door, struggling to keep Amy from falling out of his arms. He slide into the seat carefully, the pain in his ankle instantly lessening with the absence of pressure on it. He quickly closed the door behind them, and for that moment he was overwhelmed with relief. True relief, complete relief. His muscles finally surrendered to their fatigue and he slumped back into the seat. Even his head fell against the cushion and he breathed deep, sharp breaths. They were safe. The safest they'd been for what seemed like hours, though Ty wasn't sure how long it had really been. Time, minutes and seconds, had all vanished in the midst of their danger. They had been replace by so many other things, terror, panic, guilt. For one moment all those things vanished too, and Ty clung desperately to the seconds of peaceful safety he felt. But it could only last for that, a few seconds, when he felt Amy's weight resting against him.

He had failed. He had always failed, at everything in his life. Ty had always blamed himself for his dad leaving. He had always counted it among his failures. Even Wade had blamed him. As he'd grown older, his mind had changed. He knew it wasn't really true that he'd made his dad leave. But he still, even now, knew it was his fault. His dad couldn't stand to look at him, he couldn't look at his son without feeling guilty. That guilt, no doubt coupled with a gambling heart and a thirst for alcohol had driven him away. Ty was convinced it was the guilt above everything else that made him run. And Ty knew he was the reason for that guilt. Even if he hadn't meant to, even if he hadn't been able to control it, he had been the reason his dad abandoned him and his mom. It had left Ty hurt, and that hurt had hardened into anger over the years. But it had never made the failed feeling inside of him go away.

He had failed to protect his mom, and even himself from Wade. He had failed when he promised himself that he would be different. Different than his dad. Different than Wade. Different even than his mom. He had followed the same corrupt, descending path that they had. He had made the same mistakes they had, and had done all the things he had promised himself he wouldn't do. He had failed and became the person he never wanted to be, the person he hated.

Over the past few month he had learned to except those mistakes. He had been able to swallow the guilt, or most of it at least. And in a odd, strange way he had even come to be grateful for them. Because they had brought him to Heartland. They had brought him to the first place where he felt free, and truly happy. He hadn't liked it at first. He had been stubborn and refused to even attempt to enjoy it. He had even been rude to the very people that had taken him in. But it hadn't lasted long. Without being able to stop it he had fallen in love with Heartland, and the new life it gave him. In just a few short months much of the pain and scars that made up his hard exterior that been stripped away. And instead of feeling weak and exposed, it had freed him. He still had plenty of moments of doubt. There were still times he felt the old wounds open, raw and as painful as they'd always been. But in most ways he had healed. The brokenness inside of him had healed. Some of the fear, the distrust, and the pain had started to heal. It was for those reasons that Ty could find himself thankful for some of his past mistakes. They had brought him here, to this place, and to her.

But now he had failed again. It seemed like something he simply couldn't break, and he was afraid it would always haunt his life. He was afraid of what his failure would do to the people he cared about. As it did now. Lasting only seconds and leaving as quickly as it came, the relief he'd felt melted away. Ty took Amy's head in his hands, gently brushing the hair from her face with his dirty fingers.

"Amy, Amy wake up," he begged in repeated whispers. "Come on, please wake up." She remained silent and limp. Suddenly remembering, Ty reached into his pocket and drew out his phone. His heart still racing, he dialed the emergency number and brought the phone up until it rested on his ear.

They were coming. Help was coming. Another deep sigh left his mouth, partly in relief and sudden assurance of help, and partly in dread of what he had to do. Still diligently watching Amy for any movement, Ty dialed Jack's number.

It rang several times before he heard Jack's sleep drenched voice speak, "Hello?"

Ty searched for the right words to say, but in the end only "Jack," was his reply.

"Ty, is that you? Where are you?" Jack asked in confusion.

"Jack, we're at the farm with the mustangs," he rushed, wishing he could stop there and only tell how they had freed the horses. But he didn't have time to waste. "You need to meet us at the hospital."

"What? What happened? Ty are you ok? Who's with you?" Jack questioned instantly all at once, his own worry shaping into panic.

"It's Amy," Ty said in a completely broken voice. "She's hurt." Whatever stunned, shocked, terrified, or angry reply Jack started to utter was cut short when Ty heard a groan come from Amy's lips.

"Jack, an ambulance is on its way. You need to meet us at the hospital," Ty said before dropping his phone, all his attention pinned on Amy now.

She could hear before her eyes found sight. Noises, distant and weak and broken came and went. They sounded like shouts through water, or cries in a disappearing dream. But finally they grew louder and more steady, and then they were gone again. The next time she came awake the sounds came faster and this time stayed. It was a voice. Even while she was still balancing between consciousness and silence, she could hear the raw emotion, the desperation in this voice. It called her name clearly and repeatedly, reaching inside of her and ripping at the silence that was keeping complete consciousness away. She knew that voice. Ty. His words spoke to her like a wave or current, pulling at her. She wanted to answer his pleads for her to wake, but her lips wouldn't move, her mouth couldn't speak, her tongue unable to form the words.

She was surrounded by an inability to respond, and it ignited a deep panic. It was the sudden light that rushed into her eyes that calmed her. It was a dim light, a cold light sneaking in between her lashes, but it grew. Blurred shapes, confused colors, and incoherent objects sunk together to form a clear picture. The brightest thing in front of her vision was a pair of green eyes, everything else was dim, washed out and pale from what she now recognized as moon light that shined on them. Ty was leaning forwards her, his eyes wide and scared. Every muscle in his face was pulled into a worried frown, and his lids were parted. She could see them moving but his voice came at her from everywhere else, like an echo from behind her. As she blinked her eyes fully opened, her head spun and her vision swam. Amy thought she would fall from whatever position she was in, as she hadn't yet determined how the rest of her body was responding. But strong hands caught her and held her, supporting her head. Ty's fingers were holding her neck, his thumbs resting against her cheeks.

He spoke again, this time the words came strait from his mouth loud and clear only inches from her face, "Amy."

She answered, and this time is wasn't silent, but a quiet yet audible whisper, "Ty."

He choked in relief when he heard her voice. A breath he didn't realized he'd been holding released, rushing from his lungs where it'd been locking inside of him by terror. "Amy, it's alright. It's going to be alright," he promised. He brushed the hair from her face, some of the wet, sticky blood on her cheek touching his fingers. With a shuddering breath he looked from his hand now stained with her blood, to her face. His tearful eyes drowned in her blue ones, and in a shameful whisper he said, "I'm so sorry."

She was weak and tired, and it was only the sound of his voice holding her awake. But even that was failing. She could feel herself slipping away from him. And no matter how hard she tired to keep her eyes opened, no matter how many gasps she tried to waken her body with, no matter how desperately she clung to his words, she couldn't. Not even the pain pounding behind her eyes could keep her from falling back into darkness. Just as it was spilling over her, right before it drowned her and drug the light away, she was able to gasp one more word, 'Ty."

"No, Amy!" Ty cried when her eyes closed again. Lose and devastation grabbed him. He was terrified. Again she was limp and still, unresponsive in his arms. A broken plead choked him.

He didn't know how long he stayed that way, cradling her, staring at her, trying to coax her awake. By finally he heard them. Sirens. Looking back he could see the flashing red and blue lights of the ambulance approaching. As gently and quickly as he could he laid Amy down in the seat, and then jump out of his truck and into the road. Renewed pain cried from his ankle, but with clinched teeth he ignored it. Lifting his tired arms above his head, he waved them back and forth. Help had finally came. He wasn't alone anymore. He continued to wave his arms until the vehicle stopped only yards from him, the headlights shining in his face, blinding his eyes, and leaving him flooding by light in the middle of the road.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Please review. I would love to read all of them. And I appreciate everyone that has so far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I promise to try to get the next one up sooner! <strong>


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